


the in-between

by slyther_ing



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Ava Flint-Wood makes an appearance, Domestic, Established Relationship, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Pre-Battle of Hogwarts, Worried Marcus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 15:27:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15222155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slyther_ing/pseuds/slyther_ing
Summary: They’re too young to have a kid, but they have one, and they’re too young to fight in a war, but there’s one happening too. And that’s that.





	the in-between

**Author's Note:**

> cross posted on tumblr @ mxrcusflint

 

They both still at the knock at the door.

Marcus’ face hardens, shutters closed to a point where Oliver has never quite been able to reach him. Before Oliver can say anything, he retreats into their shared bedroom.

“Wood!” Katie bursts in the moment Oliver opens the door, followed by Angelina and Lee in hot pursuit. “It’s time, we’ve got the signal, we need to go.”

Oliver swallows. “Okay - okay, just - gimme five minutes.”

“Oliver, we don’t have-”

The sharp cry of a baby cuts Angelina off before she can finish, and Oliver watches his three friends stiffen in surprise.

“Five minutes,” Oliver pleads, and then he turns and heads to the nursery before they can say anything else. He’s not surprised that Marcus is already there, cradling Ava against his chest - Marcus has always been quicker on the uptake, wary about letting her sleep in her own room.

The soft shushing and familiar rocking Marcus is enacting to quiet Ava’s hiccups causes Oliver’s throat to close up. It’s too soft. Too cozy, too delicate. But he’s made up his mind ages ago, has argued with both Marcus and his parents over this for sleepless nights - and he’s not one to back down now.

They’re too young to have a kid, but they have one, and they’re too young to fight in a war, but there’s one happening too. And that’s that.

“Marcus,” Oliver whispers, careful not to disturb Ava now that she’s calming back down, “I know you’re angry - we talked - Marcus.”

Silence. Oliver sees the stiff line of Marcus’ shoulders, tamps down the urge to reach out and bury himself in the safety of the familiar body. He holds his tongue, unsure of what else to say. Nothing is coherent except for the tug of war, needing to keep his family safe, and wanting to stay.

He retreats to their bedroom, grabs the extra wand he’d scooped up from the streets, just in case. Angelina eyes him warily once he steps back out into the living room, and Katie looks equally conflicted.

“Wood,” Lee says first, “We understand if you’ve changed your mind.”

Oliver shakes his head. “No, I’m coming. Just…”

The nursery door remains closed. He’s praying to some deity who probably shits on all his desperate begging that Marcus will come out for what might be the last time -

He begs hard enough, because Marcus does, Ava still coddled in his arms and the soft “Flint?” from the girls is drowned out by unwilling resolve  in Marcus’ eyes. Oliver looks at his feet.

Marcus passes their daughter to Oliver, who takes Ava into his arms, lets her snuggle a little before kissing the top of her forehead, wisps of baby hair tickling his chin. Flint turns, appraises Angelina, Katie, and Lee, and scowls.

“I’m not happy about this,” Marcus’ voice is low, “But I get it. Go.”

Oliver stills, soft breathing of their daughter against his chest so precious he can’t breathe. Marcus’ jaw is still tight and his brows are still drawn, but he’s looking Oliver in the eye.

“Marcus, I love -”

“Shut up, we’re not doing this bullshit,” Marcus bites, and it’s for the first time that Oliver sees the fear in his face, “You come back in one piece, you hear me?”

Oliver nods, hasty. “Yeah. Yeah. Marcus, I -”

“Go.” Marcus cuts him off again, and then he’s taking Ava back, resting his chin softly on the top of her head. Oliver realizes his boyfriend’s hands are shaking. “I know.”

“He’s got us,” Katie says, and Marcus nods.

Oliver draws him in, presses a kiss to Marcus’ grim mouth, careful not to crush Ava between their bodies, and then before he can regret, he’s waving his friends out the front door, following close behind.

“Wood,” Angelina says the moment they step outside into the night, “You’re sure?”

“There are more people with more on the line than me,” Oliver says and he really tries to believe it, “I need to do my part too.”

***

No one has ever told Marcus how terrifying waiting is. He’s waited before, ages ago, when his mother had gone into labor too early to make sense, and all that he was allowed to do was wait in the foyer of their dark manor, wondering if it was cruel to ask the higher powers that be to give his mum back, even if it meant trading in his younger sibling.

He’d been too young to realize that the lead weight in his stomach was so nauseating. Even so, his father had been shaken but ultimately unfazed, and at the end of the day, his mother had returned with baby sister in tow, both exhausted but alive.

This - this is different.

He’d put Ava back to bed, cast a silencing charm, then tried to get the radio to work, but he doubts anyone’s manning the radio mid-battle. Still, it’s something to preoccupy his mind from whether Oliver’s alright, or hurt - whether he’s still alive.

Oliver had brought it up in the middle of it all, had run some errands for the Order, and each time put Marcus on edge, because it was so out of his control. But they’d agreed - at least one of them should stay home, just in case.

Ava had been abandoned by the local orphanage already once - they couldn’t both do that to her.

The news of the Dark Lord’s defeat peeks its triumphant head out at six twenty-five in the morning, and Marcus breathes a heavy sigh of relief, knowing that the big bad is dead. Auror reports of Death Eaters being rounded up or escaping are the least of his worries, as long as it means the sun is finally peaking out.

It’s nearing ten when Marcus starts unraveling, because surely, surely Oliver should be home by now. Surely he had to be alright.

Marcus swears foully, collapsing at their dinner table - they’re not married. Hell, only a small handful of people know they’re together. If anything had happened to Oliver, he’d likely have to find out from other reports, and eavesdropping. It makes his heart clench painfully.

He’s thankful Ava is still sleeping and he darts between the nursery and the kitchen, restless.

He should’ve gone - fuck, he should’ve, how could he have let Oliver go alone?

Mid panic, the front door creaks open and Marcus freezes, hoping against all hope. And then Oliver is stumbling in, bloody and dirty, but on both feet, with all his limbs intact, and alive, god-blessedly alive.

“Oh Merlin,” Marcus manages, before stumbling forward to pull Oliver into his arms.

“It’s over,” Oliver whispers, “It’s over, it’s over.”

He rubs at dried blood and dirt on Oliver’s cheek. “Are you-? Lot of blood, fuck.”

“Some isn’t mine,” Oliver mumbles, and he looks bone weary and so much older, “I would’ve come back earlier, but there were so many injuries. Had to help.”

“I was worried sick,” Marcus gasps, tears finally leaking out and they’re dripping onto Oliver’s cheek, but it doesn’t matter because Oliver is alive and whole in his arms, heart pounding loudly against his chest.

Oliver shudders. ‘I know - I know, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t need to say sorry,” Marcus says, “I love you. I love you. God fucking hell, I didn’t know what I would do if you hadn’t come back.”

“I didn’t know either.”

They stand in their kitchen, bodies pressed together for comfort and Marcus can’t help gripping Oliver tight, knowing that he isn’t a spectre come back to haunt him for mistakes. He doesn’t realize he’s grasping at Oliver’s arms until his boyfriend shifts, uncomfortable in the tight hold.

“I’m alright, I promise,” Oliver consoles him, smiling a little and moving so Marcus can bury his face into the crook of his neck. “Ava-?”

“Slept through the night,” Marcus draws himself up, piecing himself back together again, “Good kid, she is.”

Oliver nods, following Marcus as he leads the both of them to the nursery. They stop at the doorway, unwilling to disturb Ava’s peaceful sleep, and Oliver repositions himself in the crook of Marcus’ arm. The minute rise and fall of their daughter’s chest is comforting and peaceful, unaware of the destruction that Hogwarts had just witnessed. Marcus himself is unaware, can’t bear to imagine the things Oliver has seen, but that’s all kept for a later day.

Now, it’s just about the three of them, safe and whole and home.

“Thank you.” Oliver says suddenly.

Marcus rests his cheek against the top of Oliver’s head, and spares his own thank you for the universe.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading this little snippet! it's been floating in my notes for ages, so i thought i'd put it out here. 
> 
> for those following punch-drunk, love-drunk, the final chapter should be up soon ayy


End file.
